


So...You're The Saints?

by PanjaMysy



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies)
Genre: Connor is a little shit, F/M, Murphy is also a little shit but slightly less, beardy macmanus boys, set in ireland, somewhat slice of life to start, will get into the action later in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanjaMysy/pseuds/PanjaMysy
Summary: Aby Crinigan has spent her whole life dreaming of a life in Ireland and she's finally got it. It's almost like a dream, working at the local pub in Collinstown, a simple and laid back existence far from the noise and stress of her American upbringing. But when two local men visit the pub one night it's a meeting that will change her quiet existence into a wild ride of vengeance and vigilante justice.
Relationships: Connor MacManus & OC (Friendship), Murphy/OC - Relationship
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to point out that I named this character something a lot of people will probably consider a Mary Sue name...but it was my cat's name at the time I was writing this story and I struggled with a name for a long time until I finally just gave up and used the cat's name. So, yeah, sorry but I think it's a pretty name plus it pays homage to my beautiful Abyssinia, may she rest in peace.

I'd been in Ireland for about a month now and my life was just starting to get settled in. I'd managed to locate a small apartment above the town bakery, which was torture really because all the smells wafted up into my living space and I had to fight the urge to buy them out every single morning, and I had procured a job recently at the local pub. Not a bad gig, really. My job consisted of mixing drinks, pouring beers, wiping counters, serving food and chatting it up with the customers.

I had made my home in the small village of Collinstown , County Weastmeath in the Irish Republic because I'd always been told my family came from this county by my grandpa who was very much Irish and damn proud of it! Collinstown was a good place, a farming village, with kind hearted and easy going folk and I'd found it really easy to settle in. The locals were fascinated by me because of my American accent so they would talk to me for hours just to hear me talk back, which was fine because I felt the same about _their_ accents! Talk about a symbiotic relationship.

My job at the pub was the highlight of my day, actually. The atmosphere was the type that everyone dreams about coming to Ireland to experience, the real McCoy. This night was no different, I was leaning onto the bar half listening to Duncan Lyons' now familiar tale of the screaming banshee that had chased him a half mile across his field, but my eyes were taking in the crowd as I nodded in all the right places to keep half-drunk Duncan believing I was paying attention.

People watching was my favorite thing to do during the lull of the early evening and I was getting good at the names and faces of the frequenters of the Silver Vixen. There was Saoirse Reid, a young girl with stereotypical curly red hair that bounced when she moved even in the slightest, she was fun and always had a smile ready for anyone and everyone. Over in the darkest corner was grouchy old Leon Flynn, he'd lost his vision with age and being blind made him much less pleasant than he'd once been, I'd sat with him one night and heard his story so he was nice enough to me at least. Drunk and stumbling already, and it was only six in the evening, was the young and brazen William Gallagher who always had a line for any lady unfortunate enough to catch his wandering eye.

Yep, I loved it here.

The bell above the door jingled, announcing the entrance of a new customer, or in this case, two new customers. Now, this being a small farming village, I'd seen many scruffy and dirty men wander through that red painted, chipped door...but these two took the cake. They were both exactly the same height and both had matching beards that hung down to their chests and long, filthy hair that hung down almost as far. I scrunched my nose as the smell of sheep hit me and I took a moment to adjust to the powerful scent, I decided these two weren't going to be my favorite customers...

"Hey guys, what can I get you?" I said in a friendly tone as they took their seat at the bar, I noticed then that one of them had darker hair than the other but there wasn't much difference than that. They looked up at my greeting and the lighter haired one smiled...at least I think he did, under that mass of whiskers it was hard to tell.

"Hey there, lass!" he said, and I couldn't help but smile at the happy Irish lilt, "Yer not from around 'ere are ye?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes good naturedly.

"Is it THAT obvious?" I joked. The dark haired one didn't even change his expression, it was cold and mirthless so I focused my attention on the lighter haired one because he seemed at least willing to talk. "I'm not from around here, no. Just moved over from America."

"Aye?"

"Yep! I mean...aye!" I could have face palmed myself for being so lame but the dark haired one finally made a sound that was suspiciously similar to a laugh so I felt like maybe being a complete idiot was worth it.

"I'm Connor," the light haired hobo-looking guy said and then nodded toward the dark one. "That's me brother, Murphy."

"Nice to meet you Connor, Murphy," I replied with a winning smile, "My name's Aby."

Connor and I chatted lively for a good long time after I'd brought them both a Guinness and then, later, a glass of Jameson but Murphy never said a word he just sat there in brooding silence, those piercing blue eyes watching every move I made like he was sizing me up.

"Excuse me, guys," I noticed a young lady waving for my attention at a booth and I went over to see what she wanted and returned moments later to refill her glass. Connor was murmuring in a low voice to Murphy and he fell silent when I came around the counter and smiled...I think.

"Ye've been a great hostess, Aby," he claimed as he plunked down a 20 Euro note, "See ye around I'll bet!"

"Bye, Connor," I called as he pushed the door open, and then much less enthusiastically, "G'bye, Murphy."

If Murphy heard he gave no sign, but Connor waved as they walked out.

A very odd pair...very odd indeed. Wonder what crawled up Murphy's ass and died? Goodness though, those two were disgustingly filthy no matter how friendly Connor was, the sheep smell and the hair was hard to look past. But Connor was pleasant to talk to so she genuinely hoped he would come back...maybe not Murphy though.

The band marched in at 11 on the dot and the sound of folk tunes and rebel songs played on beaten up old guitars, bodhrans , flutes and pennywhistles filled the room and all thoughts of Connor and Murphy left my mind as I took a seat on a barstool to relax with a beer and sing along.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tip Your Waitress: ko-fi.com/panjamysy  
> Tumblr: solar-pxwered.tumblr.com

I leaned back against the bar, sipping occasionally on my bottle of Samuel Adams as I chatted with Saoirse about her cousin who lived in Donegal. He was an aspiring artist and apparently he was doing a show in Mullingar next week so she wanted me to come with her to see him, of course I agreed because Saoirse just had that effect on everyone, you almost couldn't deny her anything she wanted because she was such a nice girl!

"Well, slan, Aby!" Saoirse said with a smile, she started for the door with a skip in her step, "Tol' me mum I'd come by t'night and help her with the cannin'!"

"Bye, Saoirse!" I called, waving after her. On her way out the door she ran smack into someone and I heard her giggle out an apology and the voice that assured her it was ok I recognized as Connor. Sure enough, he edged around the redhead and approached the bar with Murphy on his heels. He slid onto the barstool next to me with a chuckle.

"Ye ever get a night off, lass?" he asked.

"Why would I need a night off?" I replied, standing to go behind the bar to pour his drink. "This place is so laid back it's hardly work at all."

"Ya wanna real job? Try herdin' sheep."

My eyes widened and I smiled as Murphy met my eyes.

"He speaks!" I said incredulously.

"O' course he does," Connor said, with a nonchalant shrug, "Ye just met him on one of 'is off days t'other day."

"Is herding sheep really all that bad?" I asked Murphy, "I've had some sheep on my farm back in the States and I love them."

"Some is the key word there," Murphy replied, and I discovered I really liked the sound of his voice. "Little shits are stupid. Get a few hundred of 'em t'gether and try t' keep 'em under control and ye won't like 'em so much."

I laughed and threw my bar rag over my shoulder and smacked the counter lightly.

"What can I get you two?"

"Guinness," Murphy stated immediately, Connor put a finger to his lips and tapped for a moment before deciding on Killian's. I opened the taps and filled their glasses and then slid them expertly down the bar to them. They grinned, I knew because I saw the whiskers lift, and raised their glasses to me before taking the first drink.

"Join us, lass?" Connor asked moving over a seat, leaving the one between the two of them open, "I see yer drinkin' some Adams there."

I did a scan of the place to see if there was anything I should be doing but everyone looked happily tipsy and were all chatting away in the smoke-filled atmosphere, so I shrugged and took the spot between them.

"I'm a Guinness girl, but I like to branch out sometimes and try new stuff," I commented as I twirled the contents of my glass in a circle.

"Why branch out when ye got the best right'chere?" Murphy stated, clinking his glass to mine and downing the rest of his.

"You're kind of bias there," I stated, sipping my beer. I was a sipper, not a chugger. "But I've yet to find something I do like better than a good ol' Guinness Stout."

"Smart lass," Murphy said, sounding almost cheerful. I took another drink and wondered in silence what had changed in the day since he was here last.

"Aby! Play us a tune!" I heard a voice call out, cutting my wonderings short. I giggled and shook my head but William Gallagher wasn't going to take no for an answer and soon he had the whole pub chanting "Aby! Aby! Aby!" so I rolled my eyes and slid off the bar stool, reached behind the counter and pulled my pennywhistle from under it.

"Excuse me boys," I said with a smile, "They won't leave me alone about it unless I play."

Connor and Murphy nodded and smiled and I trotted up to the small stage at the back of the room where Mr. O'Fallon was fixing the mic to the stand.

"Ladies and gents," he said into it as I tested my fingering on my instrument, "All the way from across the pond, Miss. Aby Crinigan!"

Cheers and whistles broke out from the small but rowdy crowd and I took a dramatic bow, smiling like crazy. I stood back up and placed the mouthpiece of the brass whistle between my lips and steadied my breathing, then I blew softly and closed my eyes as a smooth note resounded in the room, leading into a series of trills and rills that would make up the song "Rocky Road to Dublin". The thing about playing Irish songs is that you really tend to get in to it and I soon found myself skipping around the stage as the crowd sang out the familiar lyrics at the top of their drunken lungs. When I let the last note fade the room erupted in applause and cheers and I glanced at Connor and Murphy, Connor was clapping over his head and Murphy stuck his pinkies in his mouth and whistled long and loud. I bowed and skipped off the stage back to the bar.

"Well, I'd say Aby's got a bit more Irish in 'er than she lets on!" Connor stated as I started dutifully wiping down the bar.

"Not really," I admitted sadly, "Only one fourth Irish. I took my mother's maiden name when I turned twenty one."

"How old are ye then?" Murphy asked boldly. I smiled, the Irish...they didn't beat around the bush.

"Twenty six," I stated just as confidently, "Refill, guys?"

They both nodded and I collected their glasses and filled them up.

"How about you two?" I decided if I was going to fit in here I should just get over any hint of shyness in me. I set the beers down in front of their drinkers and turned to refill my own glass.

"Thirty two," they both replied at once.

I turned and cocked my eyebrow at them.

"Thirty two? Bull shit."

"Naw, lass, it's the truth!" Connor demanded, "Well, technically I'm thirty two and ten minutes!"

"Shut yer mouth, Con! We both know I'm the oldest!" Murphy shot back, giving his brother a firm smack on the arm.

"Ice, Murph! ICE!" Connor turned on his stool to look at Murphy with an angry squint.

"Yeah, what's yer reason any other time?" Murphy muttered into his beer.

I didn't have a clue what they were talking about but Connor suddenly flung his arms around Murphy's shoulders and shoved his full weight into him, causing them to topple off their stool onto the floor with a loud thump. I clapped a hand over my mouth as they two of them started wrestling and Connor actually threw a punch, which Murphy dodged with a laugh before pushing Connor off with his legs. Everyone in the pub watched the two of them with mild interest but then went back to whatever they were doing before, I had to assume this happened a lot.

"CONNOR! MURPHY!" I yelled at the top of my lungs and THAT caused everyone to look in our direction with wide eyes. The boys stopped fighting and looked up in surprise, Connor's fist pulled back and Murphy shielding his face with his arm. They stood slowly, their heads hung in shame and retook their seats.

Moments later they were chatting away at each other like nothing had happened and I rolled my eyes and left them at the bar to go chat with Leon in the back corner. The band came in at eleven as always and Leon got up and left, he hated the band for some reason but I never had the nerve to ask why. I made a round to refill everyone's drinks and then returned to the bar to start cleaning up a little. Connor had turned around to watch the band and was singing loudly along with "Back Home in Derry" but Murphy was rolling a cigarette and remained silent. He lit his expertly rolled stick of tabacco and slowly let a cloud of smoke issue from his nose, his eyes closed and he leaned his chin on his left palm.

"You guys are twins then?" I asked, already knowing the answer, but I wanted him to talk.

"Aye," Murphy replied, taking another drag.

"You guys sure don't look thirty two," I added honestly.

Murphy laughed and I smiled at the sound, he had a very cheery laugh, slightly high pitched.

"Yeah, I guess it's been a while since we shaved," he tugged at his beard and sniffed.

"Or had a haircut," I muttered as I turned to wash the pile of glasses on the tray that had sat untouched for quite some time.

Murphy chuckled and when I finished the dishes I found he'd turned around and was now singing with Connor. The two of them managed to make a lovely song like "Maggie" sound like it was being sung by a pair of banshees and I shook my head at the sour notes they were merrily issuing forth.

The two of them stayed until the pub closed down and then they bid me a goodnight and left a generous tip on the counter. I pocketed the notes and wiped the last glasses dry before making the rounds and putting the chair up on the tables. With one last scan of the room, I clicked off the lights and locked the door. A steady rain was falling, of course it was, it was Ireland, and I pulled the hood of my jacket over my head and ducked down as I took off at a steady pace for my apartment across town.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I flung open the door as a clap of thunder hit and tripped over something warm and fuzzy, landing ungracefully on my hands and knees. The light green eyes of my ruddy tabby looked up at me angrily, like it was MY fault.

"Damn it, Titus!" I growled as he rubbed his back along my chin, twisting the tip of his tail around my nose. I giggled and pulled him onto my lap and kissed him behind his ears as I ran a hand down his back and tail. He meowed indignantly and jumped out of my grip. He pranced to the kitchen and jumped up on the counter and paced along it, looking at me questioningly.

I'd found the sad little malnourished tabby in Dublin one rainy night while I'd been staying there my first week in the country, he was wet, dirty, flea bitten and ragged but my heart went out to him and I'd taken him in. Now he was lithe and lean and beautiful with his red dirt road coat with the chocolate stripes, and he acted like he was in total control of this apartment. Which, let's be honest, cats DO tend to own the space around them.

"I guess you're hungry, huh, you little fart?" I laughed and grabbed the bag of food from the cabinet. I had to keep it up there or Titus would shred the bag to get at the contents. I poured his small bowl full and grabbed a bag of plain chips for myself then changed into pajamas and plopped down on the couch. But, before I could even find a show to enjoy or eat a single chip, the night's work took me under and I was out like a light.

Funny thing was, I dreamed of Connor and Murphy. Nothing weird, just us at the pub when no one else was talking and having a grand time. As scruffy and dirty as they were, they were funny and never boring to talk to, especially Connor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tip Your Waitress: ko-fi.com/panjamysy  
> Tumblr: solar-pxwered.tumblr.com

I didn't have to work tonight, I had Mondays and Wednesdays off, but I somehow found my feet leading me to the Silver Vixen at the end of my evening walk and I didn't fight their leading. After all, a cold beer combined with warm and happy atmosphere sounded like a great way to chase away the damp of the previous night's rain.

I shook my hood back as I pushed the door open, the merry jingle of the old bell above the door announced my arrival. It was pretty slow, I noticed as I took a seat at the bar next to Clint McGwire, the local priest. He was definitely not opposed to having a pint now and then and I found him to be an easy person to talk to.

"Hi, Father McGwire," I greeted cheerily.

"Hi, Aby," he replied with a smiled, "You workin' tonight?"

"No, but I figured I'd stop by and see how things were going," I said honestly, "I'm on my way home from a walk."

We fell into an easy conversation as I sipped my Guinness and an hour passed before I even realized it. Shit, Titus was going to claw my eyes out for feeding him so late!

"Well, it's been great chatting with you, Father," I drank the last of my second glass of beer and laid my money down, "But I've got a hungry cat waiting for me at home so I've gotta go get him fed."

"See ya around!" Clint called as I waved goodbye.

I stepped out onto the stoop and pulled my hood back up then stepped forward...but ran smack into something warm and solid and I bounced back because it sure wasn't moving. I looked up in surprise and found Murphy MacManus' blue eyes staring at me with amusement.

"In a hurry, lass?" he asked brightly. I looked around expecting to see Connor, but he wasn't there.

"Where's your other half?" I asked him, pushing my hood back a bit so I could see him better.

"Had to stay back and help our Da with somethin'," Murphy explained vaguely, "You goin' in?"

I shook my head.

"No, I've gotta get home and feed my cat," I said with an apologetic head nod. "I'm a bit off schedule."

"You're in Ireland, Aby," Murphy stated with a smile, "Schedules mean nothin'."

I couldn't deny that fact, I'd been late for work my first day working at the pub because my alarm hadn't gone off and I'd arrived a half hour late. I'd expected a stern talking to but Mr. O'Fallon had simply welcomed me and showed me the ropes without a word about it even though I apologized a thousand times.

"Well, maybe not to _humans_ , but cats have their own rules," I shrugged, "Have a good night, Murphy!"

He nodded at me and I started walking but before I knew it, he was at my side.

"Mind if I walk with ya?" he asked brightly.

"Aren't you going to the Vixen?" I asked.

"Naw, I just had to get off the farm for a while, nothing specific planned," he stated nonchalantly, taking the cigarette from behind his ear and placing it between his lips. He flicked open a lighter and the scent of tabacco smoke filled my nose. I breathed it in with a smile, the smell of smoke reminded me of times long past, family members now gone, it was a homey smell.

Murphy was looking at me funny when I came back to the present.

"Doesn't bother ya, does it?" he asked, waving the cigarette in my direction.

"No, not at all," I replied honestly.

"Ya want one?" he asked.

"Nope," I shook my head, "Never touch them. But I like the smell."

Murphy smirked and took another drag, he kept the smoke in for a second before he blew it out slowly, making a perfect circle out of it. I was impressed...maybe I'm just too easily impressed, but I was fascinated by that ability, always have been.

"How do you DO that!?" I asked.

"I'm something of a professional," Murphy answered with a wink, "Or just...an addict."

We both laughed and once again I found myself loving the sound of his high toned mirth. We walked along the cobbled streets and chatted freely about sheep, smoking, Connor and Collinstown. I was delighted to see that Murphy was just as easy to talk to as Connor and I wondered once again what had been wrong with him that first night they'd come in the pub.

"You know, Murphy," I stated when a break in conversation occurred, "When you came into the pub the other day, when I met you and Connor, I didn't like you."

Murphy looked at me funny.

"Yeah? Is it the hair?" he asked.

"Well, I admit...I think you two look like hobos...but no, it was your attitude," I admitted, "You hardly said a word and you were...scary."

"Sorry," he apologized, he looked down at the road and kicked at a loose stone in the street. "It was a rough day."

"Yeah, I know that NOW," I teased, "You're a totally different person now."

"I look like a hobo, huh?" he asked suddenly and I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, sorry," I felt kind of stupid now for saying that. Geez! "I mean...you...I didn't...I suck."

Murphy let out a bark of a laugh and had to stop walking for a minute while he leaned over to let it ride out.

"I'm sorry, that was super rude of me!" I tried to clarify, "I just mean you look kind of...ok, you know what, I'm gonna stop talking right now."

"I don't blame ya!" Murphy said with a chuckle, "Some days, if I happen upon a mirror, I barely recognize meself."

"What do you look like under all that?" I was curious now. I honestly couldn't picture him. He DID have beautiful eyes though...

"Irish." was all he offered and we walked on.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Thanks for walking me home, Murphy," I said when we reached the bakery's side door that led up to my apartment.

"You live in a bakery?"

"Above it, thank you," I laughed and a very unlike me thought came into my head. "You want to come up?"

Murphy smiled at the expression my face took on when I realized I'd just asked a complete stranger into my apartment.

"Ye sure?" he asked with a half grin. "Ya seem to be second guessing that."

"No, I mean it, sorry," I assured him as I unlocked the door and began walking up the steps, he followed without a word and I wondered vaguely if I was stupid for having him come in. Seriously, I barely knew this guy. When I opened my apartment door, Titus came flying off the couch and tangled his body around my ankles but then stopped to look at the newcomer. I waited for his reaction and was surprised when he went right to Murphy who scooped him up with a laugh.

"Well that's odd," I commented as Titus began to purr loudly, "He usually doesn't take to anyone but me."

"I love cats," Murphy commented, "I guess they can sense it about a person."

"Guess so," I agreed, "Well, I guess you're a not a rapist or anything because my cat likes you."

"I can guarantee that," he said as he let Titus down.

"Well, uh, there's Guinness in the fridge if you want one," I offered, feeling incredibly stupid for saying something so incredibly rude. "TV in the living room, make yourself at home."

Murphy grinned and took me up on the Guinness offer immediately while I grabbed Titus' food and poured his bowl full. I checked the water bowl and refilled it then made my way to the living room. Murphy was reclined on the couch, legs spread wide looking completely at ease. He held out a bottle of Guinness in my direction and I took it with a "thanks" before I sat down on the other end of the small couch.

We sat there for hours watching tv and I discovered a show that Murphy claimed I would probably enjoy called "Father Ted" and we had a good old time laughing at the antics of the three priests and their lives on Craggy Island. When the show ended Murphy clicked off the TV and turned towards me.

"So, Aby, where are ye from in the States?" he asked, seemingly interested and not just being polite.

"Illinois. Middle of the country..."

"I know where Illinois is, believe it or not," Murphy winked and I rolled my eyes.

"Right, sorry, some people don't have a clue about the Midwest...anyway, yeah, Illinois," I finished lamely.

"So is Aby short for Abigail?"

Aw dang it...I KNEW that was going to come up sooner or later.

"No..." I sighed heavily, "It's short for Abyssinia."

The look he was giving me was borderline hilarious and I giggled.

"Abyssinia? Ain't that a cat breed?"

"Yes, but it's also the ancient name for Ethiopia," I clarified, "My mother was an archeologist and she just...thought it was pretty."

"It's different, that's fer sure," Murphy said, nodding, "But, she's right, it IS pretty."

And so the night was spent much like that, Murphy asking all the questions and me giving him the answers. I told him about my family back in the States and how my mom had died when I graduated from high school and how my dad drank himself into a frenzy and died only a year later. I told him about my three older brothers. I told him I'd left the States because I'd always loved Ireland and that I needed a fresh start. But he wouldn't answer any question I asked him all night and I started getting annoyed at that fact.

"Hey, how come you get to hear my life story and I can't get yours?" I finally snapped at him. He just shook his head sadly.

"Nothing to tell," he said, meeting my eyes as if to dare me to deny that. "Well, hey, it's late and Connor's gonna be needing help watching the flock tonight. See you at the Vixen?"

I crossed my arms but sighed, knowing he was avoiding my question.

"Yeah, I guess so," I muttered as he made his way to the door. "Hey, tell Connor I said hi."

"Will do, Abyssinia," Murphy gave me a wave and a wink before shutting the door behind him. I stuck my tongue out at the door and got up to lock it before making my way to my bedroom. I wondered how come he was so tight lipped about anything concerning him or his brother's personal life as I slipped on my pajamas. A million reason flooded my mind, each one more disturbing than the next but I fought them off.

"Probably just like he said," I reasoned, "The life of a sheep farmer isn't really all that glamorous or interesting."

I brushed my teeth and brushed my thick, chestnut colored hair free from its many usual tangles then plopped onto my mattress with a sigh. I considered reading for a moment but my mind was too busy so I settled for clicking off the lamp and laying in the dark, thinking of my new life here in this beautiful country and the interesting people I'd met so far.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tip Your Waitress: ko-fi.com/panjamysy  
> Tumblr: solar-pxwered.tumblr.com

I watched the door of the pub like a hawk the next night, and the night after, and the night after, but neither of the MacManus brothers came through it and I found myself feeling utterly disappointed for some odd reason. Not like I knew them that well or anything, so why did I want them to come in so badly? It was utterly foolish to sit around waiting for two hobo-looking sheep herders I barely knew to make my nights better. _Foolish._

"Earth to Aby!" Liam Hart, one of my newer name-put-to-face customers waved his hand in front of my face and I blinked, tearing my eyes from the door to look at him with a ready smile.

"Sorry, Liam," I said with a small laugh, "I guess I zoned out there for a minute."

"Expecting someone in particular?" Liam asked with a wink. Liam was in his late fifties with graying temples and stereotypically bright blue eyes and one of those golf hats you see in pictures with old Irish men in them. I had liked him immediately when he introduced himself to me the first night he came in while I was working.

"Do you know Connor and Murphy MacManus?" I asked, not even knowing why exactly.

"I know of a Noah MacManus, has a sheep farm outside town," Liam said thoughtfully. "They related to him?"

"Not sure," I replied honestly, "They do live on a sheep farm..."

At that very moment, however, the bell above the door jingled and in walked the objects of my distraction, Connor and Murphy. Both of them immediately took their usual seats at the bar and I filled a glass of Guinness for Murphy and Killian's for Connor.

"Beautiful evening ain't it, lass?" Connor stated cheerfully as I set his drink down in front of him. "Gotta love that rain, aye?"

"It's raining again?" I asked dully, not really surprised.

"Aye, can't you tell?" Murphy shook his head, causing water droplets that had collected on his long hair and beard to fly everywhere. Liam laughed, paid for his drink and stood.

"Well then I'd best be getting home," he said, waving as he headed for the door.

"Bye, Liam," I called after him.

Connor and Murphy were in bright spirits this evening it seemed. They were joking around with each other about which one looked more like a hobo, which made me think Murphy had told Conner about my thoughtless remark when he had come to my place. Speaking of the devil, Murphy was readily laughing tonight right along with Connor instead of being his usually silent self, Connor was doing all kinds of weird voices...if they hadn't just arrived I would have guessed they were drunk.

"My goodness, but you boys are in a good mood tonight!" I commented with a grin as I returned to the bar from refilling glasses around the room.

"Why shouldn't we be?" Connor asked with a grin, "I mean we're in a warm pub safe from the pouring rain with the prettiest barista in town serving us!"

I blushed slightly but diffused the compliment with a laugh.

"Oh, come off it," I replied, "I'm the ONLY barista in town."

"Doesn't make it any less true," Murphy stated in Connor's defense...and mine too, I guess.

"You're only saying that because I'm American and exotic," I joked, causing them both to choke on their beers simultaneously. They leaned back and started laughing and I realized they had very similar laughs, twins indeed.

"Exotic?" Murphy chuckled, "I wouldn't say that."

"Well, she would be if we'd never been to America," Connor pointed out, "After you're there for while it loses its exotic feel."

Was it just my imagination or did Murphy's knee collide purposely hard with Connor's at that moment? I don't think it was, because Connor suddenly stopped talking and took a long drink.

"You guys have lived in America?" I asked, interested. Connor winced slightly but Murphy jumped right in.

"Aye," he replied, "For a few years. Our ma insisted on us gettin' out there and seein' the world. Said America was a good place to start."

"Well, not if you're American," I teased, knowing that even Americans really did need to get out and see their own country more. "But which part did you guys go to?"

"California," Connor suddenly broke his silence and Murphy looked at him for a moment before nodding and taking a drink.

"California? That's it?" I asked incredulously, "Boys, you missed the best parts of America. To REALLY get a feel for it, you gotta come to the Midwest!"

"We'll keep that in mind if we ever go back," Murphy said with a smile, Connor cleared his throat.

I wasn't stupid, I could sense the discomfort of this discussion, but I wondered what it was that made them both seem nervous about discussing America.

"So," I decided to lay it all down, "What happened to make you not want to talk about your time in America? Did you get kicked out of the country?"

They both met my eyes with odd expressions, but Connor broke into a laugh.

"No, no," he said with a grin, "We left to come back home."

"Had to get back and help da with the farm, you know?" Murphy backed Connor up.

I decided to let the matter drop due to their obvious discomfort, but suspicion continued to tickle at the back of my mind nonetheless.

"You boys enjoy working on your farm?" I asked to change the subject.

"It's alright," Connor shrugged, "Smelly, and sheep are stupid, but it's fairly simple work. We're sheering tomorrow."

"Yeah?" I asked, interested.

"Yep," Murphy said, setting down his now empty glass. I took it to the tap and refilled it. "Then on Thursday we'll be herding them to the sale in Robinstown."

"Herding them?" I leaned forward on the bar, "Like...on horseback? With Sheepdogs and such?"

"Aye," Connor nodded, "We're pretty old fashioned."

Murphy leaned back, pulled out a small drawstring bag and a metal box and started rolling a cigarette. I watched, fascinated at how he did it without even having to think about, with one hand. He licked the paper to seal it and lit it. The bittersweet smell of the smoke filled my senses and I wondered if it was possible to feel relaxed from the second hand smoke.

"Would it be presumptuous of me to ask if I could help with the sheering tomorrow?" I ventured to ask, awed by the smoke ring Murphy blew in my direction. I swept my hand through it with a grin.

"Ya _want_ to sheer sheep on your day off?" Connor looked at me incredulously.

"I was born and raised on a farm, Connor," I explained, "Sometimes I miss it. I've sheered sheep before and I don't mind it at all!"

Connor looked over at Murphy, his eyes asking if this was acceptable, and Murphy shrugged and smiled slightly.

"If you want to, you're more than welcome to," he said to me, tapping the ashes of his cigarette onto the counter. That's just how you did it here at the Silver Vixen. "Another hand'll make less work."

I smiled, strangely excited about the concept of sheering sheep. The band began to play in the back of the room and I smiled as the song "Galway Girl" filled the room. I took Connor's now empty glass and turned to refill it, singing out loud as I pulled the tap open.

"You've got a lovely voice there, Aby," Connor commented and I turned to find the two of them looking at me with matching smiles.

"Aye, she does!" Murphy agreed cocking his head slightly to the right. "Why don't ya sing more often?"

"I sing plenty," I replied, handing Connor his glass, "You guys just aren't around when I do. I sing in the shower mostly."

I wanted to facepalm myself for saying something so stupid, but Connor just laughed loudly.

"Have you ever sung while sheering sheep?" he asked with a grin, "You'll have to give it a try tomorrow!"

We talked and joked all night and Connor even pulled me into the middle of the pub to dance with me when he'd gotten a little bit soused, but Murphy remained sober and calm...either that or he was a serious drunk. Towards the end of the night, Connor set his sights on a black haired girl that came in with her friend and waddled over to try and charm them with his drunken sweetness. Murphy and I leaned back on the bar to watch as he slid into the booth with the girls and started talking about sheep.

Finally Murphy rolled his eyes and slid off his barstool, he walked over to Connor and took him by his arm to pull him out of the booth.

"Sorry, ladies," he apologized for his brother, "He's had a wee bit much."

The girls assured him that they hadn't minded and Murphy dragged Connor back to the bar, sitting him on his stool and telling him in low tones to "sit the fuck down" and then drained his glass, keeping a grip on Connor's arm the whole time.

"I'm gonna take him home, Aby," he claimed, jerking his head at Connor. "See you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Of course!" I replied with a grin, "But...where?"

"I'll come get ya," Murphy said simply, "Can you be ready by six?"

"In the morning?!" I squeaked.

"Thought ya were raised on a farm?" Murphy teased, "Aye, in the morning. Gotta work with the light."

I sighed and laid my head on my folded arms on the counter.

"Yeah," I mumbled, "I can be ready by six."

"Well," Murphy pulled his brother off the stool and steadied him, "I'll see ya in the mornin' then. C'mon, _little_ brother."

I watched the two of them leave, Connor weaving and laughing but complaining about ice again, Murphy holding him tightly and grumbling at him. I wiped down the bar and sighed, waiting for the pub to close so I could get home and get some much needed sleep before my early morning wakeup call.


End file.
